


can't smile at me

by fated_addiction



Category: K-pop, Mamamoo, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 15:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12213741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: This is a problem. How they fight – “You should date her.”Moonbyul likes to problem solve. Wheein's pretty terrible when talking about her feelings.





	can't smile at me

**Author's Note:**

> There's no point to this other than feelings, feelings, and more feelings! Written pretty quickly via commute and on my phone and always, for K, because she's literally the best.

This is a problem. How they fight – “You _should_ date her.”

Wheein tends to drop things out of nowhere because, well, it’s _Wheein_ and usually, Moonbyul tends to move past that, smile, nod, and humor her because she does not know how to do anything. It’s not a bad thing. This is not a confession: Moonbyul likes doing things for Wheein. It makes sense. It always has.

But now?

“Wait,” Moonbyul says. She blinks. Then she looks down at the carton of ice cream between them in the practice room. Hwasa has a schedule. Solar is visiting family. She blinks again. “Wait, _what_?”

“Date,” Wheein replies, nonchalant. “Seulgi. She’s cute.”

“She’s super cute,” Moonbyul says. She waves a hand. “But where is this coming from?”

“She’s more reachable than Krystal,” Wheein continues, ignoring her. She stabs her spoon through the ice cream and Moonbyul can’t help but wince. “That sounds weird. Reachable,” Wheein continues. She waves a hand. “Anyways. You should set your goals honestly.”

“I still don’t _understand_ where this is coming from,” Moonbyul retorts. “And honestly,” she tries, “what if I don’t want to date anyone? Then what?”

Wheein snorts. She stabs the ice cream again, hard enough for a large piece to rise and some of it to push over the carton’s side, melting. Wheein ignores it, sliding her finger along the rim and licking the ice cream off.

“You can’t be single forever,” she says. Seriously too. Her face darkens and she looks away. Her fingers still play with the spoon.

Moonbyul opens her mouth. Then she closes it. She watches Wheein’s expression color and change. She’s angry. She’s bad at hiding that. Then she’s sad – she’s terrible at hiding that too, you know. Moonbyul feels her heart clench, not completely, but just enough so that it feels like a fist wrapping around it and squeezing tightly.

Her face flushes. “This is stupid,” she says instead.

 

 

 

 

 

They are not like other girl groups. It may be the worst kept secret in the industry. Their dorm feels more like a group of college students, a collection of personalities that weirdly seem to work. The point is this: they all have quirks from Solar’s random, questionable date nights that somehow end up in her room (she’ll totally deny it) to the fact that Hwasa kind of just likes walking around naked (“We’re on the sixth floor,” she always deadpans) and that all sort of works, odds and ends and everything in between.

“You are so _weird_ ,” Moonbyul breathes, mostly to herself, standing outside of Wheein’s door. It’s usually open and there’s usually music, but the practice room conversation kind of, well, no, _definitely_ made everything weird.

What’s even stranger is that she hasn’t just barged in. Her hand is wrapped around the knob. Her fingers are holding it tightly. If she looked down, she’d probably see that she’s even knuckle-white.

The practice room conversation has thrown her off. So Moonbyul knocks. Then she walks into Wheein’s room.

“What?”

Wheein is lying in bed, blankets skewed around her. Her hair is piled messily onto a pillow and there’s a laptop standing next to her shoulder.

“What do you mean _what_?” she counters, leaning against the doorframe. Moonbyul scowls too, staring. “You just drop the dating thing out of nowhere, get mad at me –”

“I’m not mad at you,” comes Wheein’s sleepy reply.

“You _are_ ,” Moonbyul insists. She steps into the room, moving over to the bed. “I don’t know why and we had ice cream soup because you brought up dating without any warning – ”

“Seulgi is really nice,” Wheein shrugs. She stretches and yawns. Then she flexes a fist at her. “I’m rooting for her.”

Moonbyul growls. Like actually _growls_. The noise sort of rumbles from somewhere deep in her throat and she throws herself into a pivot, marching back to the doorframe because she doesn’t know how to handle this all of the sudden. She’s bewildered. It shouldn’t come as a surprise.

Then she stops again.

She turns quickly enough to catch Wheein still staring at her, and then moves to climb onto the bed. She straddles her, her knees pressing into the blankets.

“Hi,” she manages, and Wheein quirks a brow, not moving. Moonbyul narrows her eyes. “I feel like this was all part of some master plan of yours,” she mutters.

Wheein shrugs again. “I just want you to be happy.”

“You’re lying,” Moonbyul snorts. She pokes Wheein’s forehead, her finger tracing the lines that frown. “You’re making a stupid face.”

“I am _not_.”

“I don’t understand you.”

Wheein snorts. “Just trying to get on your level of not actually talking about feelings but talking about feelings.” She tries to wave Moonbyul off. “So I’m giving you my blessing.”

It doesn’t dawn on her, not yet, and Moonbyul tries to categorize where the day, maybe week could have gone wrong. The truth is somewhere between that; it also lies in how she’s never been ashamed to name Wheein first and _mean_ Wheein first because that’s always been important too. And maybe she really hasn’t vocalized that enough, or the best way, and it’s why they’re here, right here, in the middle of some stupid fight.

Moonbyul sighs. “You could just tell me.”

“I _did_ ,” Wheein sighs and she tries to look away, only to look back, her eyes dark and wide. Moonbyul watches her swallow. “Over ice cream,” she insists. It’s another read between the lines moment.

They stare at each other. It’s quiet enough to be poignant, but poignant in a way where it feels like nothing more than a small step, a necessary step, and she wonders if she missed something completely. There’s a lump in her throat and suddenly, she’s a mix of terrified and pissed because she’s not the type to dance around anything.

“I’m happy,” she says carefully. Finally. She pokes Wheein’s forehead and the other woman squirms. Moonbyul sighs. “I don’t want to date Seulgi. I don’t want to date any other girl group member that you want to sign me up for because that’s a lot and sadly, I’m simple.” She shakes her head. “I like simple like this.”

Wheein swallows. “I like simple too.”

Moonbyul’s mouth purses and there are words, there and ready, but she doesn’t really know how to push them together. Instead she leans forward, then over Wheein, and her mouth gently touches hers. It’s a weird, little kiss – shy, maybe, soft, definitely. There are knots in her stomach. They hover at each other and Moonbyul leans into Wheein again, stealing a second kiss.

It’s messier, a little heavier, and her hips press forward and she sweeps her tongue into Wheein’s mouth, mostly to taste her again. Wheein makes this sound, something kind of like a squeak and a sigh, something that makes her feel a little possessive and heavy too.

“We don’t have to talk about feelings,” she says quietly, and then turns so that she’s tucked into Wheein’s side, over her, as they sort of shift and tangle together. “In fact,” Moonbyul says, “it’s probably not a good idea right now.”

“Sure,” Wheein manages. “Sounds good.”

Wheein presses her mouth against Moonbyul. She bites at her lip and it’s sort of sweet, the mix of Moonbyul’s own sigh and her arm sliding underneath Wheein’s head. Her hair spills over her arm and Moonbyul finds herself thinking _I like this_ because that seems like the headspace to be in.

Wheein brushes her fingers against Moonbyul’s face.

“So you’re not dating Seulgi,” she murmurs. “That’s good too.”

Moonbyul rolls her eyes. “You’re the worst,” she says.

This is how it’s been all along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

(How they move on:

“The scarf is _cute_ ,” Wheein is defensive, adjusting the scarf for the hundredth time as Solar is laughing herself into tears in the other corner of the practice room with camera.

 _Couples scarf_! is the only caption that they agree on together. It might have been a couple of hours to get to that point, but who’s counting anymore?)


End file.
